Drabbles
by FerryBerry
Summary: Various unrelated little Faberry tidbits collected into one spot; generally posted to Tumblr first.
1. Mine

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. All belongs to _Glee_ writers and creators.

**Sum:** S3. Finn and Rachel married; Quinn had no accident.

**Genres:** Mild Angst/Mild Humor/Mild Romance

**Mine**

Rachel hated going to the hospital. Loathed it. So going to the school nurse's office wasn't exactly something she looked forward to, either. However, she was also meticulous about her health, and even the slightest tickle in the back of her throat was cause for alarm. Her new husband, Finn - she almost squealed at the thought - was convinced she was being ridiculous, worrying for no reason, but if she was going to audition for NYADA in the fall again - and she was - she had to take excellent care of herself.

As soon as she arrived, the nurse pointed to a padded seat with the same pinched expression as she always greeted Rachel with and left the office, mumbling something about Principal Figgins. Rachel didn't quite catch it, but she perched up on the edge of the seat and swung her legs with a hum. Until she heard soft voices from the cot room and peered around the curtain, catching a glimpse of pale hands with black nail polish caressing a golden tanned leg.

"I should've known better than to trust Santana," a familiar voice chuckled out painfully, hissing.

One of the hands disappeared and returned with a cotton swab. "Just hold still."

Rachel's eyebrows popped up in surprise. Quinn? She sounded so…so gentle.

"All right, it's okay."

The leg tensed a couple times and Quinn's nimble fingers disappeared once more, returning with a pad of white paper.

"Put your finger right there, it's okay."

Another tanner hand appeared to hold the pad in place, and then Quinn's hands retracted and appeared one more time with gauze this time and started wrapping, looping it around the tan leg lovingly. Caressing the skin with her thumbs now and then. Rachel swallowed. Quinn was so tender.

What was she doing, wrapping up a girl's leg with such softness, such kindness? Not that Rachel didn't think Quinn was kind and soft. Well, she could be when she wanted to be, Rachel knew that, but she had never seen her quite _this_ kind and _this_ soft. Her voice had even dropped an octave and it was so loving, so sweet.

Rachel's brow furrowed as her stomach twisted. Another symptom, oh, God.

"It's only a flesh wound," Quinn was saying soothingly.

"Is that actual medical terminology or are you just stealing from Monty Python now?" the other voice giggled painfully.

There was a smile in Quinn's voice when she explained, "Just means the bleacher seat only grazed your leg, so even though there was a lot of blood, you're going to be fine and you'll still be able to participate at Nationals."

"Lucky me."

Quinn taped down the gauze on her leg, and then her fingers just traced hypnotizing circles on the girl's leg.

"Okay, stop, you're getting me all tingly," the girl giggled, and her leg wiggled a bit.

"I like it when you're tingly," Quinn teased back. Her palm flattened and smoothed up that thigh, and Rachel felt something tighten in her throat. Even more when Quinn purred, "So bashful."

Who knew there was this side to Quinn? A side beneath the stern Quinn and the quiet Quinn and even the friendly Quinn. All those components were attractive, sure, and Rachel liked and cared about all of them, no matter how cruel Quinn got to be, but this was something Rachel had never seen. Well. Maybe that wasn't quite true. A few times, when she and Quinn spoke, especially before the wedding and the engagement, there was something in Quinn's eyes and her voice. A tenderness.

Like the tenderness she was using to touch and speak to this other girl.

"We're gonna get caught," she said suddenly, hushing her voice.

Rachel glanced over abruptly again and found Quinn leaning forward now, a bright smile on her face. The smile she'd given to Rachel a couple of times before, a special smile. A just for her smile. One she hadn't seen since the wedding. Now Quinn's smiles were reserved and distant again. Rachel frowned.

"So what? I'll shout it to the whole world if it means I get to kiss you."

Quinn was leaning further, her smiling face disappearing beyond Rachel's view. On reflex, she reached out and knocked the pile of magazines stacked next to her on the floor. Quinn stood up sharply, and Rachel bent over to quickly pick them up, smiling to herself. She had to bit her lip to keep it from evolving into a grin when Quinn rushed over to help her.

"Rachel? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hello, Quinn! I'm just getting a tingle in my throat checked out, that's all." She sniffled for emphasis.

Quinn set the stack of magazines neatly back up onto the table and Rachel felt her staring, so she worked up a few tears to water her eyes up and sniffled again, wiping her nose. Quinn started to reach up to touch her forehead, but stopped short, biting her lip.

"Do you feel like you have a fever?" she asked instead, and Rachel shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm a little warm."

Quinn rubbed her hands together after a moment and Rachel smiled encouragingly at her, leaning into the touch when Quinn finally pressed her palm over her forehead, lips pursed in concentration. And she could help but smile slyly over at the cheerleader leaning forward to catch a glimpse of them, the way she had been doing just a moment ago.

Something like guilt tried to tug at her, for so many reasons, but all Rachel could think was, _Mine_.


	2. Missed Opportunities

**Sum:** Future. Rachel and Quinn reflect.

**Genres:** Angst/Romance

**Missed Opportunities**

"I can't believe they're finally getting married."

Rachel couldn't help but giggle as she tightened up Quinn's tie beneath the collar of her white dress shirt. She looked ravishing as always, in Rachel's personal opinion, though Quinn had mentioned numerous times that just because it was a lesbian wedding, it didn't mean anyone had to wear tuxes. Santana had compromised by make it a tie, vest, and skirt, instead of full suit.

"After all the break-ups and make ups, I was starting to think it would never happen," Rachel went on, smoothing the fabric down Quinn's chest.

Quinn merely grunted her agreement before straightening up the tie a bit more. "What is this, make up number four or five?"

Rachel giggled. "Five. I think. If you count Brittany dating Artie in high school."

"Which I do. They may have still been sleeping together, but it counts."

Quinn offered her a brief smirk before she stepped away to snatch the vest off the back of a padded chair, swinging it on with a sigh.

"Well. I guess we can't really talk. We've had just about as many attempts," Rachel commented, watching her nimble fingers slipping buttons through.

"What, you mean with Finn et al?" Quinn smoothed out the wrinkles, tugging at the hem of the vest.

She chuckled, tossing her hair. "Well, that, too."

"I don't think it quite counts if you've never actually been together," Quinn said evenly, then turned to her. "What do you think?"

Rachel smiled. "Dashing."

Quinn sniffed and combed her fingers through her hair. "I'm making Santana wear a neon green dress at my wedding."

"I thought you'd given up on the whole idea of marriage."

"Not entirely." Quinn swooped up the champagne glasses they'd stolen from the reception room to brace themselves for the event and poured herself a glass. "Getting there, though."

Rachel leaned her rump against the vanity table, rubbing her arm up and down. "Do you think we would've ever…?"

She raised her eyebrows for a moment. And shrugged. "It's hard to say."

"Right. Because we've never actually been together." Rachel dropped her head briefly before lifting a pointed finger. "We've come close, though."

Quinn cracked a smile then. "Fair enough. Back when I went off to Italy to work study, at least."

"And I broke down sobbing and kissed you at the airport." Rachel blushed, accepting the glass Quinn poured for her, but her smile quickly faded. "And then when you came back…"

"You were with Elliott," she finished. Her voice never wavered, but Rachel still grimaced. She opened her mouth, but Quinn continued, "And then when the two of you broke up, I was with Bailey, and when _we_ broke up - "

"I was on tour across the country, and by the time I came back, you had skipped off back to Italy." Rachel managed a smile of sorts, watching Quinn consider.

"So that's at least four almosts right there. I think it's still safe for us to judge them."

Quinn grinned, flashing her brilliant teeth, and Rachel couldn't help but laugh, nearly spilling her champagne in the process. When Quinn dropped into the chair, smiling smugly with triumph at having elicited that reaction, Rachel sobered slightly, swirling her drink and biting on her bottom lip.

"Do you ever…think about…what it would have been like? If I hadn't gotten together with Elliott, we had actually…you know."

Quinn looked at her steadily, lips pursing as she thought. "No."

Rachel swallowed, suddenly feeling rather heavy. "Oh." She set her glass on the table beside her and folded her arms. "Why not?"

"Because we didn't. I don't look back, Rachel. No point." Quinn stood to refill her drink again.

"Right. Let go of the past, so you can start your future," Rachel mumbled, nodding to herself.

"I did think about you a lot, while I was away."

Rachel perked up - and hated herself for the excitement stirring in her gut. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I'd…try not to let myself, but I'd go to some concert or play and I'd think of you."

Quinn sipped at her glass, and Rachel smiled to herself, for just a moment.

"I don't think I ever…really apologized for what happened when you got back." She frowned and straightened, peering closer at Quinn. "I am really sorry, Quinn."

She just looked at her for a moment. "For what? Having a life? We kissed, it's not like we declared our undying love. No one made any promises, I didn't ask you to wait."

"I know, but I saw the look on your face when I introduced you and - "

"I was surprised. You're letting your guilt make it out to be more than it was."

Rachel sighed. "Quinn, I'm trying to tell you that I…really regret not waiting. That I…I was just scared. That you didn't feel the same way. About me. I was afraid you never even wanted that kiss."

Quinn stared at her steadily before slowly nodding her head. "Well, I did."

Rachel bit her lip, shifting herself closer. She sidestepped along the vanity table, until her shoulder brushed Quinn's. Hazel eyes just stared her down, and she hesitated a moment or two more before she lifted her hand to cover Quinn's chest, gradually curling her fingers in around the tie to pull her down. Quinn didn't resist, but before their lips could close the gap, she spoke again, quietly.

"I have to go back to Italy after the wedding."

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip, nodding. She unleashed the tie from her grasp and folded her arms across her chest again. "Right."

Quinn's gaze traveled to the champagne and she took another long drink as the silence settled between them. Rachel closed her eyes. Another opportunity wasted - by timing.


	3. Autobiography

**Sum:** Future. Rachel has a little history pointed out to her.

**Genres:** Mild Humor/Mild Romance

**Autobiography**

Rachel wrung her sleeves around her fingers as she peeked across the desk at the man in front of her. He had given her exactly zero indication of how this meeting was going to go. Even his message on her voicemail to set up the appointment was lacking in tone, all he'd said was, "I've finished going over the manuscript, call me and we'll set up a time to talk."

A manuscript. Honestly, Rachel had thought about this a million times - being famous enough to write her own autobiography, famous enough that it would actually sell. She even had possible book titles written down and several chapter titles mapped out. But she never thought the book would actually happen. Everything else, the Tony Award, the movie, the Broadway shows, the red carpet walks - that was all possible and it had all happened.

But Rachel wasn't a writer, so the book part, while appealing, had seemed kind of like a little bonus dream. Something that might happen sometime, if she ever got around to it, maybe when she'd retired to doing special concerts and appearances and had time on her hand, but it didn't seem at all likely. Then her agent had struck up a book deal with one of the biggest publishing houses in New York.

She had spent about six months writing the thing, and now Mr. Edward Burke would tell her whether it was any good, or if she should hire a staff of writers to do it for her. Or, if it was bad enough, if they should just forget about the book deal altogether.

Burke pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose, fingered the heavy manuscript, and said, "It's good."

Rachel gaped. "Really?"

"Absolutely. It's dramatic, funny, heartbreaking - everything readers love. I've made notes and suggestions on what needs to be changed or reworked. There are a few awkward chunks about your glee club that, ah, we don't really need, especially the parts about members quitting, coming back. It's easy enough to sum up that you were all teenagers and hormones were running rampant." He smiled, crinkling the corners of his mouth. "But overall, I like it and I think it's going to make us both a lot of money."

Rachel could hardly believe her ears. Despite the criticisms - something she had grown used to hearing over the years, particularly from snooty directors - Burke liked her book. He was a suit and tie with a stern face and his smile didn't look natural even when it was genuine, but he'd liked it. She was really going to publish a book.

"There's one major issue I'd like to discuss before I send you off with it to look over my edits, however."

She twisted her lip under her teeth. "Oh?"

"It feels…kind of unfinished."

Oh. Rachel paused. "It's…everything going on in my life up to six months ago…"

"That's not what I mean. It's great on covering you, but - what about your friends? Your glee friends, they were all so ambitious in their own ways, where did they end up? What happened to them? Especially Quinn."

Rachel opened her mouth, and then promptly closed it. Especially Quinn? Why especially? Not that Quinn wasn't important to her, or had been at one time, anyway, but all of her friends had been of importance to her, had made a great impact on her life. Why would anyone care to know specifically about Quinn?

"What about her do you think people would want to know?" she said slowly, grimacing at her own phrasing.

"Well, the last time you mention her is to say she and Noah got back together, but that's…what? Four years ago now?" He paused, measuring her, and cleared his throat. "Are they still together? What did she wind up doing with her life after all that turmoil? Did she ever confront her sexuality? Did the two of you - "

"I'm sorry." Rachel's brow knit tightly, holding up an apologetic hand. "What do you mean, confront her sexuality?"

"Well, obviously she's gay." Burke drummed his fingers on the manuscript, frowning.

She couldn't help a small laugh. "Quinn's…not gay, she slept with Santana, yes, but - "

"And she was in love with you."

"What?" Rachel laughed again, louder this time. "Where are you getting that from? I didn't say anywhere in there - "

"Well, she made you prom queen, right? She didn't want you to be with Finn, she kept pushing you toward the career you love instead. I mean, in Part 4, with the marriage debacle, you said she only agreed to go to your wedding once she knew that Finn was making you happy? I hate to tell you this, Ms. Berry, but it's all over the page, whenever you write about her. Readers are going to pick up on it, too, and they'll want to know where it all went. If the two of you ever talked about Finn or your feelings or - "

"My feelings? Now I have feelings?" Rachel blinked rapidly at him.

Burke smiled. "I'm not saying you have feelings now, but back then, you must've had some kind of attraction to her. I mean, when you first introduced her, let me see - " He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leaned forward over the manuscript, flipping through to the high school section " - here, yes, you describe her as, 'She was the kind of girl you only ever dreamt about, so beautiful she couldn't be real.'"

Rachel squirmed, suddenly feeling rather defensive. "Well, Quinn is very pretty."

"Look, Rachel, all I'm saying is that readers are going to want a conclusion there. It's pretty sudden, the way she just drops out of the book when you were getting so close at one point, and people are going to want to know what happened with her, with your relationship."

"Well, they'll be disappointed. We haven't kept in touch." She shrugged, ignoring the way her voice went sour.

"I'd think about changing that." Burke smiled off her look. "It'll make for a nice ending, wrapping up where your friends ended up, especially someone who's had a huge impact on your life and where you are now. Think about it."

He pushed the manuscript across the desk to her, and Rachel hugged it to her chest. She had a little rereading to do, she decided.


	4. Anger

**Sum:** S3. Finn and Rachel married; Quinn had no accident.

**Genres:** Angst

**Anger**

The library door swung open and smacked the rubber bumper with a bang, loud enough to bring Santana out of her daze and tug her earbuds out as she watched Quinn approach and set her hands on the table, as though she couldn't hold her own weight anymore. Quinn rolled her neck, breathing out a sigh.

Santana had a feeling she knew the answer, but she brought her feet off the table and asked anyway. "Did you find Rachel?"

"No." Quinn gazed into middle space for a long moment, and Santana thought she might be going catatonic before she said, "You know what, maybe it's better this way."

"Better for who?"

"Everyone."

"Except you."

Quinn shrugged, still staring ahead. "I'm fine."

Santana scowled, standing to face Quinn. "No, you're not. And it creeps me out when you act like this."

Finally, Quinn looked her in the eye, straightening up. "I'm always like this."

"You didn't used to be." That damn eyebrow popped up. "Okay, so you used to shut down, but not this hard. When you were mad, you let it out at somebody, at some point. Usually me."

Quinn shook her head, waving blonde locks back and forth. "I'm not mad."

"Don't lie to me, Fabray," Santana scolded, folding her arms. "You don't want to be mad. There's a difference. You want to be happy for Rachel, but you can't be. She married Finn, she chose him. She wouldn't listen to you and you've lost any chance you even thought for a second you might've had with her. She's going to be stuck here forever with the giant, and you feel like punching a wall when you think about it. But you need to let that go."

Quinn sighed. "I'm trying to let it go."

"Then you need to express it, Quinn. You can't hold it in and pretend that's working. Or what's gonna happen the next time she doesn't listen to you?"

Santana hated to imply anything of the sort. After all, she knew how Quinn felt about violence toward anyone but herself, but it was just what Quinn needed to snap out of it, to get in Santana's face and roar.

"I'm not mad at Rachel because she didn't listen to me, I'm mad because she married Finn! Finn is a selfish son of a bitch. He outed you to the whole world, he's taking Rachel away from her dreams, I _hate_ him! I hate him, and the thought of them together - _it disgusts me_!" The books standing on the table went flying to the floor, before Quinn stopped, straightened, gathered herself. "And I'm trying…not to let Rachel see that. I'm trying not to hurt her."

Santana softened. "You don't think it hurts her to see you shut down?"

"Well, it's better than this, screaming, throwing things around. And we were never…together, not even close, so do I have the right to be angry?"

Quinn looked at her expectantly, eyes wide, nostrils flaring. Santana shook her head.

"You are, though, look at you. You've got to let it out and get over it."

"I _can't_. Okay?" Quinn pursed her lips and leaned her hands back on the table. "I love her."

"I know." Santana hesitated and carefully rubbed Quinn's upper back. "But you've gotta get over that, too."

Quinn's head dropped, and Santana gently patted her blonde hair. "I know."


	5. Happy Anniversary, Quinn

**Sum:** S4.

**Genres:** Friendship

**Happy Anniversary, Quinn**

Quinn's knees were bouncing. It was driving Santana up the wall, and it took every ounce of willpower she had left not to clamp a fist down on one of them and hold it to the floor. Too bad she didn't know where the toolkit was in the Fabray house. She'd have been nailing those shoes down.

Suddenly Quinn was drawing in a quick, sharp breath, and Santana nearly groaned. This was the fifth time Quinn had changed her mind about what she wanted to do today.

"This movie is boring. Let's go for a walk, it's gorgeous out!" She was beaming.

Santana scowled. "I thought you wanted to stay in and relax for once."

"There's nothing to do."

"We're watching a movie. Your favorite movie!"

"It's boring. I want to do something…active."

She groaned and folded her arms, slumping further into the plush couch to show her protest to this idea. "God, you're like a five year old on speed today."

Quinn's expression came close to crumpling, wavering on the edge before she picked it back up. "Then you pick what we should do."

"Okay." She smiled, big, fat and fake. "Let's finish the damn movie."

A sigh blew from pink lips, but Quinn sagged back into the couch. "Okay."

The knees bounced again.

Santana growled.

"Okay, seriously, what is with you today? I know you're all happy at Yale and shit and you have this new—incredibly inappropriate, by the way—boyfriend who brings you flowers and chocolate or whatever, but you haven't been this like, spazzy, hysterically enthusiastic since like…before I even met you. So what's the deal?"

She glared, for extra emphasis, in hopes that Quinn would just spill. Frankly, she just looked confused. But her smile didn't waver.

"S, don't you know what today is?"

"…Duh. November—"

"It's my six month anniversary of not having to see, hear of, or talk about you-know-_her_ and you-know-_him_ together." Quinn's grin grew. "Or you-know-her together with anyone. And I wanted to spend it with you."

Santana could hardly believe it. Her jaw went a little slack and she stared for a moment.

"With me? Why?"

She shrugged once. "Because you're my best friend. And you're the one who keeps pushing me to move on."

Damnit.

Santana sighed and stood. "Alright, get your coat, we'll go for a freaking walk. But if my toes freeze off, I'm blaming you."

Quinn would've squealed if that was her thing. Fortunately, it wasn't, and the peppy blonde merely shot up and went for her coat with an even wider smile.

Santana watched her for a moment, wondering if she should mention that the you-know-whos were broken up. And that there was a rumor floating around the (incredibly nosy) glee club grapevine that there was a new you-know-him in you-know-her's life.

She shook her head of it. Nah. It was better to let her have her day.

She patted Quinn on the shoulder after they had their coats on.

"Happy anniversary, Quinn."

Quinn smiled.


	6. Runaway

**Sum:** S3.

**Genres:** Romance/Friendship

**Runaway**

Quinn's eyelids were drooping at least once a minute. She knew this because each time she felt herself drifting, she glanced at the lit up clock to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep at the wheel. It was always only a moment later, fortunately. She'd considered the various ways of keeping herself awake, of course, but rolling down the window to let the cold February air in on her face wasn't an option. Nor was flipping on the radio. Not if she didn't want to wake Rachel.

And she really didn't. It had been a long day - and night - for both of them, but most especially Rachel. It was best if she slept through it while Quinn drove on and on through the night, focusing her eyes sharply on the lit patches of road ahead. She'd already been driving for hours, away from Lima, Ohio. Her GPS tracked their movements away, reassuring her that they were still headed toward New York. Not that that was where they had to end up. After all, when Quinn had been convincing Rachel to get in this car with her, she'd said they could go anywhere.

Her exact words had been, "Don't you see what's in front of you? The whole world is out there, waiting for you."

Rachel had been halfway to giving in at the time, hesitating between meeting Finn in the church and running to her future with Quinn. And when Quinn said that, Rachel chomped on her bottom lip and she knew she was winning, so she'd pressed on.

"We could see it together. Or you could see it alone. But you won't see it if you do this."

Finn had come storming in with all the parents and the boys following, saying something about the time, and for that moment, Quinn lost. Rachel held her bouquet tighter, pursed her lips at Quinn, and said, "I want you to go."

So she had. But as she was about to turn onto the road back home, Rachel had come running out and jumped into the passenger seat and said, "Drive." So she had, and she'd been driving ever since. Rachel hadn't said anything since then. She just sat staring out the window until night fell, and now she was curled up on the seat in her white gown, resting her head against the window - Quinn's cardigan serving as a pillow between her forehead and the glass - fast asleep.

Quinn wasn't sure what would happen once Rachel woke. Maybe she'd be furious at herself, at Quinn, and want to go back. Maybe she'd be sure. Maybe she'd be conflicted. Probably the last. It had been an impulsive decision, running out on Finn like that. Not one Rachel had had time to sit down and process and think out, and Quinn regretted the urgency of her pleas, having to push Rachel so hard and so fast, but she'd had no choice. Rachel was about to make what could wind up being the biggest mistake of her life, and Quinn couldn't just watch.

No offense to Finn, of course. He'd probably make a wonderful husband someday, to some girl, but he was yet becoming a man, for one thing. And he'd never make it out of Lima, for another. He just wasn't made for the world, and the world wasn't made for him. She'd known that when she started dating him, that he would always be in Ohio. He was too attached to the place, to the life he had there. He had no interest in glamor or fame like Rachel. He was simple, and he liked simplicity.

Rachel wasn't so simple. And neither was Quinn. But she still wasn't exactly looking forward to Rachel's struggle when she woke up. Quinn wasn't naive - she knew one conversation that led to one impulsive decision wasn't the end of it. She'd have to keep convincing Rachel she did the right thing. Keep convincing Rachel not to go back, not to give into fear or love for Finn. It would be difficult. Rachel would not only panic at the consequences of her rash decision making, but she would feel guilt like never before for what she'd done in the moment.

Quinn almost wondered if it would've been better to let Rachel make the mistake, to avoid these feelings, and to let her really realize what a mistake it would be. But she couldn't do that. Things were happening too quickly to let her. If Rachel had married him, she might not have gone to NYADA after the summer, to try again, she might've wound up stuck in Lima forever, because of a moment that Quinn didn't speak up. Besides, she couldn't bear the idea of Rachel married. No, she'd done what she had to do. She only hoped Rachel saw it the same way.

They would have to stop at the next gas station. The needle was bobbing between empty and the first notch, so Quinn kept her eyes peeled for a sign. Fortunately, at the end of a small town they passed through, there was a Mobil station. She pulled up to a pump and popped her trunk to get out her emergency winter breakdown blanket, covering Rachel up with it before she went about filling the tank. She stopped into the store to get a few snacks and drinks for the two of them, dropping them in the backseat.

As Quinn was sliding away her credit card and jotting down the mileage, Rachel shifted next to her, and a glance over found bleary brown eyes peering at her. Quinn opened her mouth, to apologize for waking her, to ask if she was okay - but Rachel beat her to it in a sleepy voice.

"Go to a hotel."

Quinn nodded, and Rachel curled up tighter to the door, eyes shutting again. There was a small bed and breakfast back down the road, so Quinn steered back out that way and went in to check out the situation. They had plenty of rooms available, as it turned out, so she asked for one with two queen beds and went back out to coax Rachel awake.

"We've got a room," she murmured once Rachel blinked her eyes open.

She received a yawn and a nod before Rachel passed Quinn's cardigan back to her and reached to lazily draw on her high heels. Quinn tossed the cardigan in the backseat and came around to the passenger door, waiting anxiously while Rachel pushed the blanket aside, wiggled her toes in her shoes, and then reached up to her like a sleepy child. Uncertain, Quinn leaned down, and Rachel's arms wrapped up around her neck, and she understood, straightening until Rachel was on her feet.

A brief, passing kiss brushed over Quinn's cheek before Rachel wobbled toward the building, and Quinn again had no time to consider before she was slamming the door shut and locking her car, rushing to catch up and steady Rachel on the way up the stairs and on up to their room. Rachel kicked her shoes off the moment they walked in, shuffling her feet on the plush carpeting on her way over to the nearest bed. She plopped there on the mattress and fluffed up her dress, reaching under it to remove her stockings from her legs.

Quinn's cheeks flared with heat. "Do you need anything?"

Rachel started to shake her head as she uncurled a stocking from her toes and rubbed her foot, but seemed to think better of it. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Quinn's brow knit, but she nodded, lifting her purse to dig it out and hand it over. Rachel started scrolling through it immediately, eyebrows raising on occasion before she went over to the landline phone and started dialing, copying from Quinn's phone. Quinn bit her lip in realization and ducked from the room - she really didn't need to hear Rachel's conversation with Finn's voicemail.

Instead she found the vending and ice machines, as well as the community room adjoining the lobby, where she grabbed some coffee and sat back to watch the newscast on the TV. The lights went out in the lobby and the janitor was bringing in the vacuum when Quinn decided enough time had passed for her to go back up, but she was still cautious upon opening the door up. Rachel was just sitting there on the edge of the bed, rubbing her toes and staring into middle space. Quinn pushed the door shut behind her.

Rachel blinked her gaze over and stared at Quinn with red-rimmed eyes. She said nothing. Quinn tossed the key down on the counter, next to the TV, and kicked off her heels on the way over to the other bed.

"I was right, you know. You really do look beautiful in that dress," Rachel said suddenly, much more clearly than she had spoken in the car.

Quinn stopped and smoothed her hands out over the hips of the material. She faltered as Rachel looked back at her.

"Of course, you'd look beautiful in a garbage can." She sniffed, half-smiling, and then turned back to her sore feet.

Rachel didn't say anything else, so Quinn sank to a knee on her bed and then flopped to the pillows, tossing her purse further down the bed.

"So you're not speaking to me now?"

Quinn glanced over, faltering once again when Rachel pinned her with those big brown eyes. "I just don't know what to say…"

Rachel shifted herself around to face her properly. "You had plenty to say earlier."

Her cheeks went red again and she looked up at the ceiling. "That was different."

For a moment, there was no sound in the room, save for the ticking radiator, but then the bed bounced and Quinn pushed herself up, bringing her knees up as Rachel sat before her, eyebrows raised. But she didn't say anything, only reached beyond Quinn for her cell phone again where she'd set it on the nightstand, and Quinn gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it over her knees, biting on her bottom lip. Rachel scrolled about and then handed Quinn the phone. She'd brought up Google Maps. Quinn's eyebrow quirked.

"You pick the first place," Rachel prompted.

Quinn tilted her head, and Rachel puffed out a breath.

"I thought we were seeing the world together…"

Her mouth dropped open. "Oh...I…"

Rachel's lips pursed. "Or you were just saying things to get me not to marry him and I bought it, as usual, because I'm a gullible little schoolgirl who can't tell the difference between Quinn Fabray offering to run away with me and Quinn Fabray doing whatever it takes to get what she wants - "

"Maine." Quinn flicked her gaze back to the map. "Caribou, Maine."

Rachel's shoulders dropped a fraction and her lips threatened to curve. "What's in Caribou, Maine?"

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. Top corner of the country, of the east coast, anyway. Start there, work our way down until September."

Rachel pulled her veil out, loosening her hair to let it fall in waves about her shoulders. "What's in September?"

"College. Re-auditioning for NYADA."

"We won't have diplomas." Rachel tossed her veil to the other bed and reached back to unzip her dress.

Quinn bit on her bottom lip. "We'll enroll in an online high school…"

Rachel stood, slipping out of the gown and setting it out over the other bed, leaving herself in a silky white slip, and curled a leg beneath her as she sat in front of Quinn again, the tip of a finger brushing her toe. "And in September, our little adventure will be over? You'll go off to Yale two hours away from New York City?"

"I'll go to Columbia," she murmured. "I got in there, too."

Rachel cocked her head, leaning closer to Quinn's knees. "I thought Yale was your dream."

Quinn shrugged. "Columbia's just as good. Still Ivy League."

Her eyebrow lifted admonishingly. "I thought the whole point of this was not to miss out on our dreams."

She had no answer for that. Yale was a dream, of course. Ivy League was important, not just to Quinn's family, but to her. It meant all her hard work had paid off. It meant she was worth something beyond her looks, beyond superficial talents. And beyond being a bad person. It wasn't all that defined her. And Yale was up next to Harvard, rivals with it, it had distinction. Columbia didn't have the same reputation, the same options and programs.

Rachel was fully leaning against Quinn's knees now, setting her chin on the top of them. "Do you want me, Quinn?"

Quinn's stomach tried to make an escape out her throat. Her heart thumped in her ears. "What?"

Rachel's finger traced up Quinn's calf, sending her hair on end. "I could be wrong, and don't hold it against me if I am, but. You've asked me to run away with you, haven't you? And you've been staring at me all night, in the car, when I took off my gown and things...and especially now."

Quinn's cheeks were hotter than ever. She looked away. "If you're trying to start a fight or humiliate me as revenge for making you make this decision, then - "

"Don't be ridiculous, Quinn," she scoffed gently, shaking her head on her knees. "You didn't make me do anything. I chose this. I couldn't go through with that wedding without you. I couldn't." She bit her bottom lip, staring at Quinn with those worshipful eyes before she went on. "And I'm not trying to start anything, I just want to know." When Quinn opened her mouth, she shot in again, raising a palm up. "And don't - tell me that nothing can happen or that I'm confused right now or anything like that. I know I'm confused right now, I know we can't do anything, because I just left Finn at the altar and even though I find you very attractive and I enjoy your company a great deal, it would only complicate things to spend the night together in that way, and I am already enjoying what we have right now; so, that kind of involvement can wait until you and I are both certain my feelings for Finn have ended, but in the meantime, I just want you to tell me if you are drawn to me as I have found myself drawn to you, because as much as I love Finn, there is a piece of my heart that refuses to obey and I think you stole it."

Rachel didn't even look out of breath, but Quinn felt it after that long mix of conflicting emotions. She couldn't do much but stare for a moment after, trying to catch her thoughts up with Rachel's words, while the little brunette waited so patiently against her legs.

"I, um." Quinn cleared her throat. "Yes."

Rachel's lips curved. "Yes what?"

Quinn's cheeks flared and she stared rather pointedly at her phone as she would a book, if she'd had one, practically whispering, "Yes, I...want you."

Rachel was lying against her side in a moment, snuggling up to her, and Quinn hesitated before resting her arm about Rachel's shoulders, sinking slowly back into the mattress with her.

Rachel's voice was teasing when she spoke, though she seemed to wait until Quinn had fully relaxed next to her. "You realize this...running away, leaving someone at the altar - well, it's all something that would only happen in a schoolgirl fantasy of life."

Quinn smiled a little. "Then you can dream about reality tonight."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" she murmured contentedly.

"Not everything."

"What don't you know?"

"What's going to happen tomorrow."

"Sure you do. We're going to Caribou, Maine." Rachel snuggled up tighter, and Quinn could feel her smile against her neck.

"And the day after that?" Quinn squeezed her shoulder.

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know that yet. And I like that I don't know. I know it scares you, not knowing what the future holds." She let out a long yawn. "But I like this. I like that I have you to face the unknown with, because I trust you. I like that we have all the possibilities in the world, Quinn. Tomorrow is rife with potential. _We_ are rife with potential."

Quinn smiled and pressed the barest kiss to Rachel's cheek. "Good night, Rachel."

Rachel wriggled closer. "Night, Quinn."


	7. Shiksa

**Sum:** S6

**Genres:** Friendship/Implied Romance

**Shiksa**

Quinn was drowning in a world of lavender. It had been a long day with the new glee club recruits. Granted, they were much improved from the last time she had been around to help, but they were still hormonal, spoiled, selfish teenagers. And Quinn had barely been able to stand that when she _was_ one.

Now, she sat on the couch in Rachel's basement with her eyes shut and her head lolled onto said brunette's shoulder, trying to find equilibrium and to will the impending migraine away, mostly to no avail. She'd have to take something when she headed home, because her head was starting to buzz with pain, striking itself through each temple like someone had driven a knife into her skull. She'd have simply gone home immediately after the ordeal that had been the afternoon's work with the boys and girls, but then - Rachel and Brittany and Kurt wanted a _couples_ night, and when the three of them pouted, there was simply no escape.

So it was that Quinn and Puck, Santana and Brittany, Kurt and Blaine, and Sam had all come round to Rachel's house together to wine and dine. Mike and Tina had opted out of the evening for some time alone together instead, and though Quinn had tried to pull that card and Puck had been more than willing to skip out, both Rachel and Brittany pulled their big brown and blue eyes, respectively, and poked out their lower lips at her. And so Quinn came and smiled while Puck squeezed her thigh under the table, Kurt and Blaine spent half the time exchanging make-up kisses, Santana cracked jokes at everyone else's expense, Brittany gushed over her ring, and Sam acted the part of the perfect gentleman for Rachel.

In a word, it was boring. And possibly more painful than working with teenagers all afternoon, but Quinn was a pro at boring, painful dinners. She'd spent more than half her life attending them, after all, so she batted flirtatious lashes at Puck, complimented Kurt and Blaine on their happiness, bantered with Santana, simply marveled at Brittany's ring, and politely thanked the host and hostess after dinner.

Then they'd all gone down for more drinks and conversation and charades, and Quinn fell in love with Rachel's couch that seemed to hug her entire tired body. At some point, Rachel had joined her, and at some point after that, they ended up pressed together, and at another point after that, Quinn wound up half-laying on Rachel, drugged by the soothing scent of lavender and by the gentle fingers that wove separate but parallel paths through her hair. It was enough to make Quinn want to purr, the way Rachel did it, using only the pads of her fingers - no nails scraping over the throbbing muscles in her head - stroking tender circles on her scalp, soothing the ache away in each spot she touched, if only for a moment. A moment of relief was enough.

"Tired?"

Rachel's voice was unusually low, Quinn noted, but at the moment, she was a bit too tired and preoccupied to wonder about it. Instead she nodded her head, nudging against Rachel's chin, and gentle fingers encouraged Quinn closer. She didn't resist the pull, nuzzling further into Rachel's neck and her smell, dragging in quiet breaths of it. More fingers joined the ones already soothing Quinn's head to knead the back of her neck, and Quinn let out something between a groan and 'unf.'

There was a smile in Rachel's voice when she murmured, "My poor shiksa," and stroked her neck and hair at once, cradling her.

Quinn's brow promptly furrowed, despite the tender touch of lips against the top of her head, and she lolled her neck back enough to peer at Rachel through narrowed eyes. "Your what?"

If she wasn't mistaken, Rachel's cheeks were flushed when she answered, "Shiksa. It's Yiddish for...well, actually it doesn't translate to something very flattering, but it's a non-Jewish woman who is, um, very appealing to Jewish men. Or women." Her shoulders shrugged. "Typically she has blonde hair - " Rachel grinned as she ran both hands over Quinn's shortened bob, and Quinn's eyes fluttered shut " - and blue eyes, but. I think hazel is just as appropriate."

Quinn hummed under her breath, rolling back into Rachel's shoulder with a yawn. "So I'm your shiksa."

"Mmhm." Rachel sounded rather pleased. "My shiksa goddess." She kissed the top of Quinn's head again.

"Goddess, mm?"

Rachel's fingers were working their magic again, in her hair, on her neck. "Yes, goddess," she whispered.

Quinn yawned. "Okay."

She was far too tired, she decided, to wonder about Rachel's behavior at the moment. And anyway, being Rachel's shiksa goddess? Quinn could live with that.


End file.
